


In Good Hands

by cminerva



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Jack Cottle is a dirty old man, Romance, all the Cottle jokes, dare I say some eventual fluff?, whenever i get around to writing that part, with a good heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cminerva/pseuds/cminerva
Summary: Cottle is not exactly thrilled by the idea of having a cylon apprentice, but she soon changes his mind.
Relationships: Sherman Cottle/OC (Six), William Adama/Laura Roslin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as a way to store my Cottle jokes in one place, but this crack fic quickly grew on me. 
> 
> I wasn't thinking much about timelines or anything when I was writing this, so we're just going to assume that they all found Earth, it was shit, they decided to move on.
> 
> And many, many thanks to Myself for help in coming up with a new title. The old one didn't work for...reasons.

When Jack Cottle was first approached with the idea of having a cylon apprentice, he gave a decisive  _ hell no _ . When the brunette Six model entered his life station two days later, his second thought was,  _ hell no _ . His first thought went along the lines of,  _ if I were a younger man _ .

Roslin was interested in integrating some of the cylons from Starbuck’s basestar with the Galactica staff. Apparently one of them had requested to work with the medical team; she had an interest in becoming a doctor. Not a bad idea considering that the cylons were no longer going to be able to ignore their wounds and the fleet was short on doctors as it was.

Yet Jack wanted nothing to do with it. It wasn’t a matter of trust; the newly mortal woman would have reason enough to behave herself if she knew there were armed marines watching her every move. No, what he didn’t care for was having one more person following his every move. The incompetent nurses were bad enough, but someone who was actually supposed to be tailing him? Asking him inane questions at every turn? No thanks. There was also the problem that most of his patients were not going to want a cylon anywhere near them. That was a headache he wanted to avoid if he could.

The president didn’t seem to care about his objections and sent the cylon in anyway. Damn stubborn woman.

“Doctor Cottle? I’m Ingrid Murphy, President Roslin sent me.”

Jack grunted in acknowledgement and gave her a quick once over to assess her appearance.

She was a Six, Jack noted. Her hair was dyed brown, or was it naturally that way? He wouldn’t mind finding out firsthand. Like the other Sixes, this one was tall, with a pretty face and a killer figure. She seemed professional enough; the hair was pulled up into some type of knot and she wore dress slacks and a blue top that clung to her curves nicely, but without revealing too much. Jack was pleased to see that she was wearing flats, not some damn heels like she was at a frakking dinner party.

She seemed unnerved by his lack of response and mistakenly took it for disapproval.

“As the president probably told you, I’m interested in becoming a doctor,” she told him, her dark green eyes earnest. “I was a nurse assistant in a hospital on Picon before the attacks and I think I could be useful if I were to learn more. I want to help people, humans and cylons.”

Jack noticed that she referred to the attacks as if she had been just another survivor, rather than a member of the race who had been responsible for the genocide.

“Well listen here Ms.,Murphy, was it? This was all Roslin’s idea and I’m gonna tell you I’m not too keen on having an apprentice,” his voice was gruff as usual and he saw her expression flicker from disappointment to frustration before he continued. “But the gods know we need more doctors in this fleet and if you’re going to start treating people it’s better you learn from me than some damn fool quack who thinks he’s a brain surgeon.”

Ingrid nodded and a smile lit up her face. Jack began to wonder if he would have more trouble from people who were afraid of this woman or those who tried to hit on her. He was inclined to think it would be the latter.

Jack sighed and lit a cigarette.

“Alright.” he grumbled around the cigarette in his mouth, “Come with me.”

Jack had to give her credit, she was a fast learner. She followed him on his rounds and listened intently to everything he said, and then repeated it back to him at the end of the day. Her practical skills were excellent as well; at least she did well with the few patients who permitted her within ten feet of them, a list which consisted mainly of Roslin and the pregnant cylon. She was smart and observant, not to mention extremely easy on the eyes. Despite of all this, or perhaps because of it, Ingrid exasperated Jack to no end.

She was always prompt, arriving sometimes before Jack had even had a chance to light his first cigarette of the day. Her professional dress never wavered and she seemed to have an endless list of ways in which to pull up her hair. Jack was still curious about the question of her hair color.

The biggest problem was her attitude. Mainly that she wouldn’t put up with any from him, especially when it came to his smoking. Ingrid became downright insufferable whenever he slipped a cigarette in his mouth; once she even went so far as to snatch the lighter from his hand. She seemed to think it was unhealthy to smoke around the patients, or even to be smoking at all. Needless to say, this didn’t sit well with Jack.

“It’s my frakking life station and if I want to smoke in front of my patients, I will!”

This was about the eighth time they’d had this argument.

“Doctor Cottle,” Ingrid snapped, “I cannot condone exposing patients to this harmful and disgusting habit!”

“ _ You _ cannot condone?” Jack yelled, incredulous. “And just who the hell are you to condone anything? You came to me to learn, not to teach me things about my own damn body! If I want you to tell me about my body, I’ll ask!”

This final outburst was followed by silence throughout the room, punctuated only by the barely contained giggles of the president who lay in the hospital bed before them.

Jack grimaced at the awkward nature of his last sentence and glared down at Roslin, who merely snorted and continued to giggle. A barely-there blush across her cheeks was the only indication that Ingrid had taken anything inappropriate from his words, though Jack might have been imagining that. Despite the natural tendency of the Six models towards overt sexuality, it was quite possible that Ingrid was entirely unaware of his blatant attraction to her. He could only hope.

“Doctor,” Ingrid spoke calmly, deliberately, “I cannot presume to tell you what to do with your own body, but when the actions of your body affect others, I’m afraid I have no choice but to intervene.”

Roslin laughed harder.

“Oh shut up, you,” Jack snapped, but he was fairly certain there was a flush across his own cheeks this time. “That’s enough talk about my body; get yours out of my sight and check on that so-called sister of yours.”

Ingrid glared at him, but turned and moved across the room to the bed where the pregnant Six, Caprica, was resting.

“So, what kind of things could she tell you about your body if you asked?” Roslin’s pseudo-innocent voice and highly amused expression earned her another glare.

“Shut it, young lady,” Jack growled, tossing her file down onto the bed and stalking away.

The truth was that Ingrid Murphy was a damn attractive woman, cylon or no. Jack liked the way she looked, the way she moved, the way she smelled, he even liked it when she argued with him. He liked a woman with a little fight in her, though it had occurred to him that in this case he might be in a little over his head.

But admiring a woman from a distance and actually contemplating some sort of involvement with her were two entirely different things, yet Jack couldn’t seem to stop himself when it came to the latter. It had never been said that Jack Cottle was a man pure of heart and mind and this had never been clearer to the old doctor than when Ingrid Murphy was around. For professional reasons she was addressed as ‘Murphy’, or ‘Ms. Murphy’, but despite his best efforts, she was always Ingrid in his mind, and she was  _ always _ in his mind.

Jack was fairly certain he could still keep up his end if by some chance this one sided attraction ever developed into something physical, but the truly frightening thing was that he was actually starting to care about this woman. As much as he told himself it was simply the lusting of a dirty old man, events soon arose that forced him to accept the truth about his own stubborn heart.

It had been almost a month since Ingrid had begun work as his apprentice and Jack had gotten used to her punctuality and professionalism, and, who the hell did he think he was fooling, he had grown accustomed to seeing her face every morning when he walked into life station.

On this particular morning he was mildly disappointed when he walked in and found she had not arrived first. When an hour had passed, he was mildly irritated because he hated tardiness. After two hours without a word, Jack was starting to get worried. An emergency on the Space Park took him away from Galactica for a while and when he returned, he was immensely relieved to find Ingrid sitting in his office with a pile of paperwork before her. He was also extremely peeved.

“Where the hell have you been all morning?”

Not the most polite greeting, but Jack did not appreciate being faced with the knowledge that he’d actually missed this woman.

A second glance at his apprentice sapped all the ire from Jack’s body.

“Dear gods…”

A dark purple bruise covered the left half of Ingrid’s forehead and along with the discoloration, her left cheekbone was covered with a small swatch of white gauze. Now that he looked at her, Jack could see that she was holding herself stiffly and that one hand was held up to her neck.

“Doctor Cottle, I am terribly sorry for coming in so late…”

“What happened?”

For the first time in all the weeks Jack had known her, Ingrid looked uncomfortable. She clasped her hands together on the desk in front of her and her eyes flicked from one item to another in his office, anywhere but at his face.

“I was on my way in this morning when I was…when a crewmember attacked me,” Ingrid’s hand flew to her bruised face. “He shoved me into a wall and would have continued to hurt me, I’m sure, but one of the pilots grabbed him and took him to the brig. The Admiral has assured me that he will be addressing the crewmember directly and Ishay stitched the cut on my face, so really I’m fine.”

She looked anything but. The lost look in her eyes tore at Jack’s heart and he was more than ready to march into the brig and rip the balls off the bastard who’d done this to her. The worst thing was that she didn’t seem angry, merely sad and Jack had a dark suspicion that Ingrid felt that the attack was justified.

“Look here, young lady,” he instructed gruffly. Ingrid’s dark green eyes finally met his. “What this bastard did was way outta line, I hope you know that.”

Ingrid looked away quickly, but she nodded.

“Thank you.”

Jack huffed.

“Don’t thank me,” he grumbled, “just get out there and do your job. Caprica’s got another ultrasound in twenty minutes. You’ll be doing this one on your own.”

Ingrid’s head shot up in surprise and the look of pleasure on her face nearly masked the bruises.

“Really? I…thank you.”

Jack waved off her gratitude and pointed to the door.

“Just get out there.”

It was clear that Ingrid was still feeling the effects of the attack as the day drew to a close. Just from watching her move, Jack could see that her neck was causing her quite a bit of pain. When it was finally time for her to leave, he motioned for her to join him in his office.

“Sit,” he instructed gruffly.

Ingrid obeyed, too tired and in far too much pain to balk at his seemingly rude tone. That was something else they fought over often; she objected to his curt bedside manner and he didn’t give a frak.

Without another word, Jack pulled her white lab coat from her shoulders and threw it onto his desk. With that barrier out of the way, he began a firm massage of her neck and shoulders in an attempt to ease some of the tension that had formed due to her injury.

Ingrid hissed when his ministrations caused her pain, but did not object as the discomfort lessened.

Jack had to admit this wasn’t what he had in mind when he thought about putting his hands on this woman, but this was what she needed now even if she wouldn’t ask for it. He would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn’t pleased by the knowledge that he was helping her in some way.

After a time, Jack’s firm kneading became gentle circles and tender strokes along the smooth slope of her neck. Ingrid sighed and reached a hand up, intertwining her fingers with his.

Jack stared at her slim fingers twisted within his own, larger ones and ran a thumb over her knuckles. They remained like this for a moment until he came to his senses and pulled his hand away, perhaps a little more abruptly than was necessary. Ingrid let the abandoned hand fall to her lap and kept her eyes averted as Jack retrieved her jacket.

“Will you be alright to walk back to your quarters alone?”

She nodded.

“I’ll check in on you after I finish up here.”

“No, that won’t be necessary…”

“I wasn’t offering. I’ll be by to check on you when I finish up here.”

Ingrid bit back a response and left. When she was gone, Jack sank into the chair she had just vacated and stared at the hand that had so recently been entwined with another that was far more delicate than any he had known and far more beloved than he would like to admit.

In truth it was completely out of his way for Jack to check in on Ingrid in the quarters she shared with half a dozen of her fellow cylons, but he couldn’t help himself. As a cover, he had brought a bottle of painkillers.

A Leoben answered his knock; the doctor wasn’t sure how he felt about this particular male cylon model sharing a room with Ingrid. The Leobens were certainly younger and good looking and gods damn it, Jack just didn’t like the arrangement at all. Though it occurred to him that the only arrangement that would truly suit him would require Ingrid to move into his quarters and that just wasn’t an option.

A platinum blonde Six guided him to Ingrid’s rack then withdrew. Jack glanced around the room; no one seemed to be very interested by his presence at their fellow’s bedside.

Ingrid’s rack was a standard military issue bunk attached to the wall with another rack just above hers. A dark red curtain provided a little privacy and added character; after calling her name and ascertaining that she was asleep, Jack pulled the curtain aside and looked down at his apprentice.

It was something of a shock to see her in this state, calm and quiet with her great length of hair no longer pulled up but rather spread across the pillow. Jack didn’t bother to stop his smile; it was nice to see her like this, when she wasn’t constantly guarding herself against the fear and hatred of most everyone in the fleet. Without thinking much about it, he pushed a bit of hair away from her face and permitted his fingertip to gently graze her brow.

It was a few minutes before Jack could pull himself away from Ingrid’s side; with a final glance at her sleeping figure, he placed the bottle of pills on the shelf next to the rack and rose to leave.

As he adjusted the curtain, he noticed two of the other Sixes watching him from across the room. He ignored their curious stares and left, but not before glaring over at the Leoben.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack has some very pointed advice for Laura about her relationship with Bill while trying to ignore his own feelings about Ingrid.

The next morning Jack was in an especially grumpy mood. He’d spent all night thinking about the mess he had managed to get himself in. Namely the fact that he’d developed a soft spot for, hell he’d pretty much fallen for, a young cylon woman. Never mind that she was gorgeous and smart, had a body that could knock someone senseless and wasn’t afraid to tell Jack where he could stick his grouchy, unsociable attitude. The fact was that she was a cylon, and he was too damn old to be thinking or feeling like this about anyone, especially her. Reconciling his jumbled and varying feelings about the cylons was now nearly impossible.

Ingrid seemed immune to his attitude; despite the ugly bruising, her expression was what one might call ‘radiant’ and she merely smiled when Jack snarled and sniped. He suspected her roommates had filled her in on his visit last night; the very idea was mortifying.

Ingrid’s patience with him faded somewhat as the day progressed, though Jack blamed Roslin for that. After all, he was simply trying to give his patient some practical advice.

The president had been in for another treatment. It cut the old doctor to the core to see such a powerful woman driven to her knees by such an ugly disease and an even uglier cure. But Roslin was a fighter, and if anyone could survive this it would be her. Jack could only hope.

Bill Adama had been at her side throughout the majority of her stay until his duties pulled him away. Jack was bemused to see that a gentle press of the hand was all the admiral had to offer as a farewell gesture before he left for the CIC. The doctor took this as a sign that the two were still ignoring the obvious.

“You know, young lady, you’re still physically capable of engaging in sexual activity,” Jack informed the president dryly. “Might actually do you some good.”

The shocked expression on Roslin’s face made Jack’s week. His amusement was short-lived, however.

“Doctor Cottle, that is none of your frakking business!” It was also a delight to hear her swear, even if it was directed at him.

“What? It’s just a little casual friction,” Jack adopted a thoughtful expression as he spoke. “Might do both of you some good, actually. The admiral looks as if he could use a good lay.”

He honestly thought the woman was going to rip the IV out of her arm and strangle him with it. But that was only to be expected, and half the fun. It was Ingrid’s reaction that startled him.

“Doctor, may I have a word?”

Jack glanced over at his apprentice to find that her lips were drawn into a tight line and her eyes were dark with fury. Completely bemused, he nodded and motioned for her to step outside the curtain.

With a final smirk at Roslin, Jack joined Ingrid.

“Well?”

“How can you be so insensitive?”

“Excuse me?”

“Saying those things about her and the admiral…”

“Don’t lecture me, young lady,” Jack growled. “In case you haven’t noticed, those two need a little push in the right direction…”

“A push!” Ingrid was incredulous. “That was not a push,  _ that _ was completely crass. ‘Casual friction?’ These are two people who love each other, not some horny pilots looking for a quick frak.”

“Did I say they weren’t in love?” Jack demanded. “No, I just suggested they stop wasting time lying to themselves and face the fact that it’s now or never as far as they’re concerned.”

Ingrid opened her mouth to respond, but she seemed to change her mind. Her expression softened and grew sad as she considered him. Jack knew he had revealed too much of himself; the sympathetic glow in her eyes was proof. She held his gaze for a long moment before she dropped her head.

“I’m sorry,” she told him softly, simply. “I didn’t realize how much you cared about them.”

Jack huffed. She was right, but damn if he was going to tell her that.

“Take care of Roslin’s IV and get her out of here,” he ordered, lighting a much needed cigarette which Ingrid seemed willing to overlook for once.

She nodded and left, permitting Jack to escape to his office and an uninterrupted series of cigarettes.

Later that day, Jack became convinced that he’d finally lost it.

“Doctor Cuddle, will you help me move this bed?”

Jack’s head whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

Ingrid’s eyes were wide and innocent. Did she really just call him Doctor “Cuddle”? And ask him to move the bed? With her?

“What?”

Ingrid seemed rather alarmed at his reaction.

“I asked if you would help me move this bed,” she told him, slowly and with great care as if worried he might snap. “So that we can prep Lieutenant Walker for surgery?”

“Oh, of course.”

_ Of course that’s what she said, you old fool _ , he berated himself.  _ Get your mind out of the gutter. _

Thoughts of Ingrid in bed were not surprising, but where the hell had his mind come up with “Dr. Cuddle”? He didn’t like to cuddle. At least he had never liked cuddling with any other woman he had ever known; Jack was inclined to think Ingrid was the kind of woman who could teach an old dog new tricks and make him think it was his idea.

But he was going to stay far away from that sort of mess, far, far away _.  _ So what if she was beautiful and talented and had a way about her that charmed even the staunchest cylon haters in the life station? Jack was too old and too stubborn and too smart to fall for all that. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

He had almost convinced himself of this when the pilots were brought in.

A brief skirmish had taken place with the other half of the cylons, the ones they were still fighting, and six pilots were injured. Another two hadn’t even made it to life station.

Of the six pilots rushed in for care, only four were human. Of the two cylons, one was a Six, and she was a lost cause. The shrapnel embedded in her neck and the fact that her chest was split open made that pretty damn clear. But she was still sucking in some ragged breaths when the medics rushed her in and that meant there was still a chance she could pull through.

“Damn it!”

“Doctor…”

A surge of panic pulsed through him as Jack saw the cylon’s heart stop.

“Keep trying.”

“Doctor Cottle, she’s dead, she bled out.” Ishay was a voice of reason he wasn’t ready to obey.

“Gods damn it, try again!”

“Jack, she’s gone.”

As Ingrid’s voice brought him back to his senses, Jack saw Ishay’s look of relief before she moved on to another patient. Jack looked down at the mangled body of the woman before him and turned away disgusted. Seeing that Ishay had the other injuries under control, he ripped off his bloodied gloves and stalked into his office.

His emotional response frightened him. She was just a patient, she died; there were others who needed his attention and he just couldn’t let her go. Of course he understood why, but was he going to have to refuse care for every Six model in the fleet just because his judgment was impaired by his own frakking heart?

Gods damn it, his heart. It was no longer just his libido that was entranced by this woman; now his heart was in on it too.

Jack decided he needed a cigarette and was just lighting one up when Ingrid walked in.

“Shouldn’t you be out there making yourself useful?” he shot at her as she entered.

“Shouldn’t you?”

“Ishay can handle the rest without me,” he grumbled.

“Then I guess she can do without me too,” Ingrid replied lightly.

She shifted a stack of files on his desk and perched herself in the newly vacated space. Jack recognized the expectant look on her face and knew he was supposed to explain himself, but damn if he was going to oblige.

Jack knew his silence and smoking would eventually cause her to break first and after a few moments, the cigarette of defiance won out.

“Damn it Jack, you did everything you could,” Ingrid said finally. “She knew the risk when she became a pilot, and now she’s dead. Don’t think it doesn’t hurt to lose one of my sisters, but that’s all she was. One of my sisters, not me. And for God’s sake, stop smoking that thing!”

She was off the desk and snubbing the cigarette out in his ashtray before Jack could protest.

“There’s a limited supply of those in the fleet, you know,” Jack groused, looking with irritation at his ruined cigarette.

“Then let someone else poison themselves with what’s left,” she answered, unrepentant.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know,” he told her, “coming in here and taking away my cigarettes, making all the patients fall in love with you and just generally making my life miserable. Which I can’t do anything about because you’ve taken away my cigarettes.”

“Would it help any if you fell in love with me too?” Gods damn it; she was cute when she was snarky.

“No,” he growled. “Hell, I don’t even like you.”

“Well then I guess you’re just going to have to be miserable, because I’m not going anywhere and you’re not going to be smoking as long as I’m around.”

She had recovered nicely, but Jack felt like the bastard he was for the hurt that flickered across her face before she could hide it.

“Guess I’m going to need to find a new vice then.”

“Guess so.”

“Any suggestions?”

Ingrid gave him a small smile.

“A few, but given what I’ve just heard I don’t think you’d like any of them.”

Jack was quite sure he would.

“Try me.”

“Is that an invitation?”

Jack paused, wondering how exactly she would respond if he said yes. Before he could decide, Ingrid’s serious expression broke and she dissolved into giggles.

Despite his best intentions, Jack laughed too.

“Am I really that terrible?” The question was a serious one, though she was still smiling.

“Absolutely.”

“Hm,” Ingrid smiled and Jack knew he hadn’t a chance in the universe of getting out of this with his heart intact. “I suppose I should apologize.”

“I suppose you should.”

‘Okay then.” Eliminating all distance between them, Ingrid grabbed the labels of his lab coat and brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth, pulling away only slightly to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 had been languishing on my old laptop for over a decade, but I've finally reclaimed it and will be finishing it this week!


End file.
